Hen Day
by Kei Tree
Summary: Fred and George have some clucking good fun with Percy... Excuse the pun... Please ReadReview!


AN: Yeah, eventually I'll write a serious Harry Potter fic,   
eventually. I have another 2 ideas for funnies and then we'll see. =)   
Dunno why but they just demand to be written. LOL...  
  
Standard disclaimers apply... Review if ya liked it, or didn't!  
  
Umm, didn't edit or really add to the content... Just changed around   
the paragraph form to try to make it clearer who's speaking at the end.  
Thank's ya'll. =)  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Hen Day~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
"Come on Percy, just one more..." A bleary eyed Percy stared   
fuzzily at his two younger brothers.   
  
"You sure this is just butterbeer, it tastes stronger   
somehow..." Fred and George exchanged one meaningful look over a   
still suspicious Percy's head. Fred winked and George stifled a   
rebellious chuckle.  
  
"Really Percy? Mine tastes fine... Maybe it's just been   
awhile since you've had some. Go ahead though, it's your twenty first   
birthday and we paid for the next round already. It'd be a shame to   
waste it." When Percy still hesitated George leaned forward.  
  
"Come on Percy, don't you trust us, your very own brothers?"   
Now, if Percy had been absolutely sober warning lights would have gone   
off with that too innocently asked question. Unfortunately, or   
perhaps fortunately for my plot, Percy was already half gone. His   
alcohol fogged brain couldn't quite grasp why some part of him didn't   
want to drown the next waiting pint but, spurred by Fred and George's   
puppy dog faces Percy shrugged, resigned, and downed his next drink.   
  
Several hours later...  
  
"This stinks... He's not even fun drunk." Fred poked a half   
unconscious Percy with distaste. Percy moaned and started to snore   
loudly into the spilled beer puddle he had fallen asleep into. One   
thumb inched towards his mouth.   
  
"That's it," Fred said. "If he starts sucking his thumb we   
are so out of here, without him. Actually," Fred continued, warming   
to the idea, "that might be kinda funny. Perfect prefect Percy found   
passed out in local pub... Imagine the scandal! Delicious!" George   
was shaking his head though, a lop sided grin on his face, as he   
pulled out a small plastic bottle. Fred stared at it, eyes wide.   
  
"I... I didn't think they were ready," he whispered as he took   
the bottle reverently. George looked proud of himself.   
  
"I did some work last weekend when you were off selling our   
fake wands to corporate sponsors. I think they're ready for a beta   
test." Both twin's eyes turned to Percy, identical smiles twitching   
on their faces.   
  
"Mum'll kill us," Fred said.   
  
"Probably."  
  
"And Percy will never forgive us." George snorted.  
  
"I hope not." Fred looked at his twin, eyes shining.  
  
"Would you like to do the honors?" George unscrewed the top   
and took out a small yellow pill at random.   
  
"What'd we make the yellow ones?" Fred asked conversationally   
as they propped Percy's head up and opened his mouth.   
  
"Dunno," George answered absentmindedly as he shoved the pill   
down his older brother's throat.   
  
"Platypus or giraffe... something like that. We'll know when   
he wakes up." The two sat back and let Percy's head fall back to the   
sodden table with a wet smack, the Animal Make Believe Joke Pills   
safely contained in their pill bottle in front of their unconscious   
sibling, extremely pleased with themselves.   
  
Three hours later a more interesting Percy woke up. It took   
them twenty minutes to get him to the pub's fireplace and ready for   
the floo powder. Fred and George were both laughing so hard they were   
hysterical and Percy... Percy seemed to have become rather preoccupied   
with trying to lay an egg. Apparently yellow was chicken.  
  
The next morning...  
  
Arthur Weasley came rambling in for breakfast. "Good morning   
dear, how are you?" Molly looked up and Arthur sighed.  
  
"Who did what?" Molly glowered.   
  
"I'm not sure but I think we should send Fred and George an   
owl... They took Percy out for a bit of a guys party last night and   
now he's acting very odd..." Arthur raised red brows and Molly   
sighed. "All right," she conceded, "weirder than usual." Arthur   
pulled out a chair and beamed as his breakfast appeared before him.   
  
"How do you mean?" he asked absently as he dug in. Molly   
snorted.  
  
"Well, for one he asked for worms and bird seed for   
breakfast."   
  
Arthur shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
"Come on dear... You know how he is. He's probably doing a   
report over his vacation time. Anything to get in someone's good   
graces." Mrs. Weasley smiled with her husband but it was strained.  
  
"Arthur, honey, you don't understand. He wanted them for   
breakfast, to eat."   
  
Arthur Weasley swallowed.  
  
"Come on dear, even if that is a bit out of the ordinary it   
doesn't mean there's anything wrong with him." Mrs. Weasley brought   
her husband his orange juice. He winced when she slammed it down on   
the table.   
  
"There's more?" he asked weakly when faced with her furious   
gaze.  
  
"Yes," she snapped. "He also asked me, quite clearly, to   
liberate the chickens."   
  
Arthur Weasley paled.   
  
"Well, maybe he's been getting ideas from Hermione." He met   
and wilted under his wife's incredulity. "All right, all right...   
I'll go talk to him. There's still no proof our son isn't just   
insane. I mean Fred and George are good boys... They'd never do   
anything to hurt Percy, permanently," he added as a somewhat belated   
afterthought.   
  
"I wouldn't dear."   
  
Arthur Weasley sighed, exasperated.  
  
"Why can't I go talk to him?"   
  
Mrs. Weasley smiled again, tightly, painfully.  
  
"He's busy."   
  
Mr. Weasley rose with a disbelieving snort of his own.  
  
"Doing what? Counting his bird seed?"   
  
"Actually he's building a nest on top of the hat rack out of   
some of my favorite scarves. Doesn't want to be disturbed."   
Deflated, Mr. Weasley sank weakly down into his chair.  
  
"All right," he said, defeated. "I'll send an owl to Fred and   
George... A nest?"   
  
Molly Weasley nodded solemnly.   
  
"Okay, okay... I'll handle it, hopefully before he tries to   
fly..." 


End file.
